Poetry by Riza Racho | November 18, 2012
maayo mu istorya si Ma’am uy
purbidang paminaw nako
“the annulment cannot be processed
when the spouse is not in trial
before the court of the land.”
unsa daw to? pastilan jud murag tinuod man
gilansangan ang iyang mga pulong
sa katahum sa iyang power point
de colores kaayo, naa pay gauntol-untol na bata
napuno ug drawing sa mga nindot nga
panang linya
paadto didto
paari diri
simang sa wala
tul-id sa tuo
katoohan jud ay
Poetry by Riza Racho | May 29, 2011
Ingon nila
Dili lisod ang kahimtang sa kabit
Sa pagkatinuod
Swerte ang kabit
Morag nidaog og lotto
Walay papeles na makagapos kaniya
Walay hawla na iyang puy-an
Walay commitment na iyang ampingan
Walay mga ugma na pangandaman
Walay bata na bantayan ug patutoyon
Basta kabit walay kagahapon ug ugma
Ang tanan naa ra sa karon
Nonfiction by Riza Racho | May 3, 2010
How do we measure success? Each has her own answer to this basic question, and each is correct. It depends, I guess, on where one is coming from, or perhaps, where one is at the time the question came. Since is no right answer to this question, there is only the supposition of its accuracy, of its veracity. From whose perspective will the assessment of such accuracy come? I guess it will be from the perspective of one who had been there.
I measure my success not in terms of how much I have in the bank—for there is not a lot there, just a few measly pesos to tide me over till the next paycheck—nor even how long I have taught in the University. To do so, I think, is inutile, for then, I am but one of the many who have given their best to honor the age-old tradition of greater service for the glory of God. I am but one of the soldiers who march to the battlefront, swinging her gun to the rhythmic cadence of inspired heroism before the guns start to mow us down. I am one of the many who may still live the ideals of a world gone awry, tenaciously holding to what could have been so that this world could become a more habitable one for those who will come after us. So, what, then, is success for me?
Poetry by Riza Racho | February 14, 2010
Ang nahigugma
Sa kamingaw mangita man
Mga paagi aron makit-an ka
Apan ikaw nanghugas na
Gipapha sa makapila
Ang kagahapon ta
Gi-pas-an ko ang imong anino
Nagsalig ko na sa anino man lang
Dili ug dili gayud ikaw hikalimtan
Apan ikaw
Daling nakalimot
nilakaw ka
nipalayo
Maayo pa ang mananap
mahibalo pang mulingi
Mutilap
Mubakho
Apan ikaw
Hingpit ang pagkalimot
Nonfiction by Riza Racho | August 9, 2009
Most of us equate coffee with age and long nights that never end; some of us place it at par with romance and falling rain, or hot sultry nights and youth, or balmy days and long forgotten echoes of old remembered loves and footsteps that ring no more, or cold afternoons and chocolate rice porridge before our old television sets and their endless reruns of movies long archived. Whatever strikes our fancy, goes; coffee on hand, it seems, is here to stay.